Published: February 1st 2006February 1st 2006
Feb 1, 2006
In Which My Worst Fear Is Realized
It happened last night at precisely 10:14pm. I got ready for bed, turned off all the lights in the apartment, walked into our room and started fluffing the pillows when out of the corner of my eye I saw something that Should Not Be.
A Huntsman Spider. On the wall above Les’ dresser. Five inches or so across.
With cat-like movements, (by which I do not mean the graceful sort, but rather the extreme spazzing sort where a cat can jump into the air and propel itself across a room), I found myself in our kitchen grabbing my cell phone. Why? Oh, did I forget to mention, Les was still at work and I was alone [with Abby well asleep] . . .only not alone at all.
The conversation went something like this.
“Hey.” Les picked up.
“Huntsman. Bedroom. You must come home now.” I said back in our room so as to keep tabs on the monster - - the only thing worse than a monster in your room, is a monster you have lost.
“Whew . . . I don’t know if I should leave yet, the entire team is here at the office, we’re up against a deadline.” Les replied.
There was a pause but obviously he heard something in my whimpering tone because he then said, “I’m on my way.”
I stood guard for the next 20 min, and since it was so late, Les made great time in a cab and was home by 10:45pm.
The spider had moved only slightly, beginning to inch its way off the wall onto Les’ Ipod. I had moved not at all.
Les wanted to capture it so we could take a picture. (Our camera was next to the Ipod so any pre-capture pictures were out of the question). I explained how our neighbor’s ‘friend from the bush’ had captured their Huntsman with a bowl and firm piece of paper, only to then release it. In fact I added. “This is probably their Huntsman back because it has a fondness for the third floor.”
To break the vicious cycle I advocated that Les wipe the Huntsman off the face of the earth. I stood guard as he went and collected various spider killing/capturing items. He returned with a mop, a cutting board, a measuring cup, bug spray and two of my grad school texts.
“What did you bring my school books for?” I whispered, not wanting to let the Huntsman in on the plan.
“I want them in case the spider starts scurrying and we have to throw something at it.”
“But my textbooks? They aren’t cheap and I have to use them for my exam next week.”
“I just needed something heavy.” He replied. True enough, they are some dense books.
At that point, a two inch cockroach flew in the window and landed on the bed. This country!! Enough already!
Les crunched the cockroach and after a few minutes of analyzing things we decided the capture-in-the-cup-plan just wasn’t going to work. Neither was the-impale-with-the-mop-plan. So we fell back on the spray-an-entire-can-of-Raid-plan and got ready. I stood on the bed with a sneaker in my hand to throw if need be. Les reached out with the Raid.
Well it all happened very quickly. Les began to spray and the Huntsman zipped down the wall to the floor in a flash. It’s brown and so is our carpet and for a tense moment we couldn’t track it. Les dropped to all fours and kept spraying under the dresser while I helpfully hopped around on the bed frantically waving my shoe. Then it came scuttling out and Les, while still spraying, picked up my copy of, “The Faithful Church: Issues in the History of Catechesis” and flung it - WABAM! The Huntsman was knocked out by the lengthy tome, a feeling that, in a bizarre way, I could absolutely relate to. Turns out one of the issues in the history of the faithful church is that exploding spider carcasses can only be removed from the cover with Windex.
As an endnote, I realize some of you may be wondering how this could happen since we purchased screens. Well the answer is, it’s hot down here. And our screens are cheap adjustable ones that slide together or apart. With our narrow windows, they are mostly on top of each other creating a thick double screen situation. When it’s in the 90s, in a southern facing apartment, it’s just not sustainable because the screens prevent any breeze. So, for the past month we’ve had to go screen-free . . .with, I’d say, pretty harrowing results.
So, for our final month here we get to choose between furnace-like temperatures at night, or potential alien-like creatures flitting about us while we sleep. It’s our own personal ‘Lady and the Tiger’. There is simply no good option.